You Light The Way
by Written Fire
Summary: Thirty short stories about the epic relationship between James T. Kirk and Spock: take four.
1. Wistful

_So this years are going to be short and sweet, but I hope that you enjoy them anyways ^_^_

 _Disclaimer for it all: I don't own!_

* * *

 _ **Wistful**_

 _(adjective) having or showing a feeling of vague or regretful longing._

* * *

Shifting a minuscule amount in his chair Spock chanced a glance to his Captain, taking in the eased posture and the small smile that played on his lips. It was a sight he longed to see when it was gone, and one that left him aching when it was around. When it was followed by a deep bellied laugh, it made his breath catch in his throat.

There had been a time, at the start of their second five-year mission, after Spock and Uhura had terminated their relationship and he was spending over half of his time off with his Captain—with _Jim_ —that the man had made his interests known.

Unfortunately, when it happened Spock was buried deep in denial and so he had rejected him; it had not been easy, and the stilted conversations and awkward tension that followed was far from easy as well. Though it took a while they did eventually manage to move past it; Spock would notice lingering glances and aborted moves to touch, but after some time and effort those stopped as well.

It was not until three months after, that Spock woke one day with the realization that he had made one of the worst decisions of his life. He awoke one morning with the certainty that he loved James Tiberius Kirk with all that he had—with an intensity he knew with a certainty he would never find again.

As he watched Jim laugh over something Nyota had said, with a glance he refused to acknowledge as wistful in anyway, Spock wondered if the opportunity to have Jim be his would ever come around again. If it did, he would seize it quickly—and offer himself to Jim, in return.

* * *

 _So, what did you think? We're starting off with a bit of angst this year. Because that's how I like it, apparently._


	2. Tipsy

_I rather like this one! Tipsy!Jim is fun to do :)_

 _The whole time I wrote this I listened to the X-Men: First Class Apocalypse soundtrack and I loved it. Ugh. Music. 3_

* * *

 _ **Tipsy**_

 _(adjective) slightly drunk._

* * *

"Spock!" Jim hisses, swaying into the open space between them before straightening. " _Spock!"_

Spock slowly turns from his conversation with Nyota and raises an expectant brow at Jim. "Yes, Captain?"

"How do you _do_ that?" he asks in exasperation, reaching out and lightly touching the arch of his brow. Spock tenses beneath his touch, but otherwise doesn't move. "You and Bones are good at that. And the old one! Me, not so much." He tries to mimic the move and fails. "See! Can't do it."

"That is…fascinating, Captain." Spock leans back from his touch, watching his friend's finger as it moves to force an arch in his own brow. "Is that all that you required my attention for?"

"Um." Jim sucks on his lower lip, an action Spock has noticed indicates he is trying to figure out how to say something, instead of just blurting it out as he can be wont to do. "Well," he draws the word out and leans towards him, balancing precariously on the edge of the stool. "You see, I _did_ have a question for you, but I think that I probably shouldn't."

Spock takes a moment to ponder that statement. "You think you should not have a question, or that you think you should not _ask_ me the question?" He would prefer clarification, but judging by the way Jim continues to throw back cups of whiskey, he is under the assumption that would not be a possibility.

"Yes." Is Jim's nonsensical reply. He snickers when Spock does his sigh-that-isn't-a-sigh at his words, the noise turning into a faint protest when the man takes his nearly empty tumbler from him and sets it down out of his reach.

"It is time we return to the ship, Captain." Spock firmly announces, paying for their drinks before grabbing hold of Jim's forearm and guiding him off the stool and to the door.

"Aw Spock, if you're taking me home the _least_ you can do is call me Jim." His grin is wicked, something that Spock ignores but for the faint blush he could not control.

"I do not think that would be wise, Captain." He utters faintly, pulling out his communicator and calling for transport home. Spock places his hand lightly on Jim's lower back so as to help direct him in the right direction, ignoring the looks that the action receives as he walks him down the corridors and to his room.

"What's it going to take to get you to call me Jim, huh?" He asks, a faint whine to his voice. "I like it when you call me Jim. Makes me feel good."

The blush is back and worse than before. "It is not professional, Captain, nor is it wise." Spock ushers him into his quarters and walks him to his bed. It is as he is trying to lay him down when he realizes how tipsy his Captain is.

"Spock," Jim sighs, gripping tightly at Spock's arms and pulling him down as well, smirking up at him when he traps him between his legs. "Doing what is wise is never fun. And calling me by name would be the best thing to do, don't you think? Then we could be unprofessional together, instead of alone."

The implications of his last sentence take a moment for Spock to grasp, trying as he is to release himself from Jim's grip without hurting him. When it does he stills, looking down at him in stunned disbelief. "Cap—"

Jim cuts him off. " _Jim,_ Spock." He says forcefully. "It's Jim." He then cuts off anything else Spock might have found to say with a deep kiss, one that stops Spock in his tracks and starts him off again in Jim's direction. As Jim licks his way into Spock's mouth, Spock is sure in his knowledge that by the end of the night, he will be calling him Jim—and that Jim will be his.

* * *

 _Let me know what you think? I love to hear from you!_


	3. Anger

_Soo my current job is being a breakfast host and this fic may or may not have Jim feeling my pain with something that actually happened today. This felt really good to write and also this format is still pretty new for me so I hope that you like it!_

* * *

 _ **Anger**_

 _(noun) a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility._

* * *

 **jtawesome:** You there, Spock?

 **scienceofficer1:** Hello, James.

 **jtawesome:** Hey, man. You busy?

 **scienceofficer1:** Not currently, James. What do you need?

 **jtawesome:** I'm fucking irritated. How do grown ass adults not understand how to throw their crap away properly? Did that knowledge just fall out of their teeny shitty brains?

 **scienceofficer1:** I'm assuming a guest failed to throw their trash away properly?

 **jtawesome:** Yeah. They saw that they were missing the trash and yet STILL eased it in so that their damn trash fell off to the side and made a mess. They had fucking pancakes so syrup pooled and dripped out. I hate when people do that, Spock, I really do.

 **scienceofficer1:** I am aware, James.

 **jtawesome:** Starting the day off angry is shit.

 **scienceofficer1:** I know, James.

 **jtawesome:** Sorry, Spock. There just hasn't been anything good happen to make my day great.

 **scienceofficer1:** I believe I may able to rectiry that, James.

 **jtawesome:** Really? How so?

 **scienceofficer1:** As of today, I am officially joining Starfleet. In two weeks I will be on Earth, and I would like to finally meet you in person.

 **jtawesome:** ….that just may be the best news I've gotten in a long time.

 **scienceofficer1:** We will meet at our designated area? At the designated time?

 **jtawesome:** You bet. I'll be counting down the days.

 **scienceofficer1:** As will I, James.

 **jtawesome:** You have to go, don't you?

 **scienceofficer1:** Yes. How did you know?

 **jtawesome:** I'm awesome like that. Talk to you later, yeah?

 **scienceofficer1:** I will call you when I am through at work.

 **jtawesome:** Okay. Bye, Spock.

 **scienceofficer1:** Goodbye, James.

* * *

 _I cleaned up that guys mess and then went into the pantry to very quietly screech my frustrations. How the hell do some people get to be adults and not know how to clean up after themselves? It's so frustrating. Ugh._

 _ANYWAY. Mini rant over, I hope that you enjoyed the little ficlet, and please, as ever, let me know what you thought! :D_

 _PS. The names started of as placeholders but then I liked them so much they just stuck xp_


	4. Bitter

_So it started out bitter and then ended awfully sweet. These damn two, ugh. 3_

* * *

 _ **Bitter**_

 _(adjective) angry, hurt, or resentful because of one's bad experiences or a sense of unjust treatment._

* * *

"I can't believe she never told me." Jim says in disbelief, a growing anger in his tone. "How could she give birth to _my kid_ and never tell me that I'm a father?"

"Maybe she didn't know how to reach you?" Bones asks, trying and failing to be optimistic—something that doesn't come easy to him, but for Jim, he will always try.

"No, she's always known how to get in contact with me." Jim begins to pace. "I've known her since high school; if she couldn't find me, she sure as hell could have found Winona or Sam."

"Have you checked that they do not know?" Spock asks, speaking for the first time since they heard the news.

Jim shakes his head. "Don't need to. Getting someone pregnant out of marriage is a mistake they would be sure to rub in my face."

It's quiet after his words; the bitterness and animosity he has towards his only living relatives is a sharp, sour taste in the air.

"Well, kid, what are you going to do?" Bones asks softly.

"Hell if I know." He runs his hands through his hair, tugging on the dirty blonde locks in frustration. " _Shit._ "

The chirp of Bones' communicator going off cuts off any words he might have said; a soft curse is what sounds instead. "I have to get to Medbay." He rests his hand comfortingly on Jim's shoulder as he passes by. Once he's gone Jim goes to Spock, rests his forehead on the nape of his neck and releases a heavy sigh.

" _Spock_." His name is shaky on his tongue, filled with the all the emotions he won't— _can't_ —express.

"Jim," Spock turns and presses their foreheads together, fingers gently encasing Jim's.

"What am I going to do? What are _we_ going to do?" He asks softly, eyes fluttering shut as he breaths in Spock's calming scent.

"What do you want to do, Jim?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"He's my kid, Spock. _My kid."_ Jim takes a deep, shuddering breath and pulls back just enough to see his face clearly. "I want—need to keep him. He's mine." The last words are a soft breath of wonder; that, combined with the emotion that is flooding through their connection, makes Spock's answer even clearer.

"Then we keep him, Jim. We raise your son as our own." Spock answers. He tastes Jim's fear, his excitement and overwhelming affection for him in their kiss, he feels it through their bond. It's a bright light that cradles them close and keeps them warm—a light that will only burn brighter with the child they will bring into their family.

* * *

 _Personally, I don't think having a kid outside of wedlock (gosh, that is the phrase, right?) is bad -considering my mom and dad were never married, I really don't- but I feel like in this little ficlet 'verse, that's the kind of thing his family would be dicks over, just 'cause they can._

 _Anywho. I love kid!fic, especially with these two, so I would look forward to another prompt fill with this little one. Especially since I already know what word to use for it, lol_

 _Thanks for the read! Let me know what you think? :)_


	5. Awestruck

_I went to post this and all of my notes disappeared. Ugh._

* * *

 _ **Awestruck**_ _  
_

 _(adjective) filled with or revealing awe._

* * *

Meeting his son is everything he could have wished for and more.

Jim never really believed in love at first sight; not, at least, until the door to Pike's office had opened and he got his first glimpse at wild black hair and eyes that he saw every day in the mirror. His cheeks were still round with baby fat and he had the same adorable pert nose that had drawn him to his ex in the first place.

He's being lead in by a social worker, and Jim can see his kid's nerves in the tightness of his grip on her hand.

"Captain Kirk, there is someone I would like you to meet," she opens with, gently easing him to stand before her. "Captain, this is Bruce. Bruce, this is Captain James T. Kirk. He's your father." For all that her words are gentle, they are life changing—for the both of them.

"Hi, Bruce." Jim crouches down so he is at eye level with his son, his smile soft and eyes nervous. He holds out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Bruce shuffles slowly over, looking over his shoulder at the social worker who gives him an encouraging nod. "Hi, Captain." He shyly shakes his hand, biting down on his lower lip as he looked at Jim. "Mama said you save people."

"Your mama was right." Jim said, ignoring the stab of anger and pain that the thought of that woman invoked.

"Mama also said you live in space." Bruce said, eyes lighting.

"I do. I live on the Starship Enterprise." Jim's answer is full of pride; his next words are full of nerves. "It's where you'll live, too, if that's okay with you."

Bruce looks down at the floor and thinks hard on his answer. While Jim waits for his response he looks up and over at Spock, who stands quietly next to Pike behind the desk. The small smile he sends him is full of encouragement and all that Jim needed.

"Jim…" Jim looks back towards his son, waiting patiently for his next words. "Did you love my mom?"

The words take him by surprise; he takes a deep breath, wanting to answer honestly and hoping it's the right thing. "I will always love your mom, Bruce. She…" He breaths out heavily. "Your mom saved _me._ And, she gave me you. I'll always be fond of her for that."

"Mom saved you?" Bruce's brows are furrowed in the most adorable way.

"She did." And that is something Jim has never shared before.

"'kay. I want to live in space, too." He smiles shyly at him.

Jim's answering smile is brighter than the sun.

* * *

 _Bruce is a cutie, and I hope we see more of him! Let me know what you thought?_


	6. Exhilaration

_**Exhilaration**_ _  
(noun) a feeling of excitement, happiness, or elation._

* * *

Today, is the day.

Today is the day that James Tiberius Kirk is going to propose to Spock.

He had been planning it out for months; Jim is going to wait until they are alone, after shift of course. He is going to get down on one knee, give his long ass speech, and bring out the simple thin banded ring that is perfect for Spock. Bones even agreed, which surprised him.

But, of course, that is not how it went down. Because he is James Tiberius Kirk, and life never goes the way he plans it.

Before it's even close to the end of their day, Spock just _has_ to go and do something that is so amazingly perfect, and wonderful, that the words just drop from his mouth without his say so and in front of everyone, to boot.

"Marry me." The words spill from his lips, and its like the world has stopped. Everyone has turned to stare at him, he knows, but he finds that he could care less.

"What." Spock says—no question in his voice, and his eyes have widened involuntarily.

"Marry me, Spock." Jim answers, walking to him. "I love you, and want to spend the rest of my life with you. So—marry me, Spock." Jim breathes, the words full of hope and love and _exhilaration._

He holds his breath while waiting for his answer, tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously.

"Yes, Jim." Spock answers after a long moment. "Yes."

Jim grins and surges forward, crushing their lips together. Even though it didn't go as planned, and Jim doesn't have the ring on him, it couldn't have gone better—and he couldn't be happier.

* * *

 _So sharing your car with your teenage cousin really sucks because they use your gas. Ugh._

 _I'm off to sleep now, goodnight, thanks for reading, and as ever let me know what you think!_


	7. Regret

_The entire time I was writing this I was thinking of the ice cream that is awaiting me. Yummy, yummy ice cream._

* * *

 _ **Regret**_

 _(noun) a feeling of sadness, repentance or disappointment over something that has happened or been done._

* * *

Jim's relationship with Starfleet had always been shaky at best. It took his parents from his, but gave him a family. It helped him find his greatest love—and wrenched that from his hands and left him to rot.

He'd had no choice; Starfleet had made his options very clear: do whatever— _whoever_ —needed to be done to close a deal that could end the war with the Klingons. Or, do everything morally right and doom them all.

In the end, he never really had a choice.

What added insult to injury was that he couldn't even warn Spock about what he was to do; there was never any time to give him a hint as to what was going to happen, to the pain he was going to strike down on their heads—on their _hearts_.

So instead of waking up on what should have been a nice, normal, loving day for them, they awoke into one that destroyed them.

Jim was pulled into a private call at the start of shift, a call that pulled him from his ship with little to no warning. He was given those dreadful options, forced into that awful choice, and come dinner time?

Well. He was unfortunately sweet talking his way into an asshole Klingon's bed, turning a golden bond dry and dusty with his unwilling betrayal. By the time the day has ended he is without a home, without a family, and voluntarily out of a job.

By the end of the day, the Federation is finally on the verge of real peace, and Jim is left without his Spock.

* * *

 _So, what did you think? Poor Jim :(_


	8. Blissful

_I restarted this too many times, but I'm finally happy with the end result. Having Johnny Cash playing in the background certainly helped. Love him. That voice, just. 3_

* * *

 _ **Blissful**_

 _(adjective) providing perfect happiness or great joy._

They had been together for over a year now, and yet, every time they were together it felt like the first. The spark that had started it all had yet to dim; it had, in fact, only grown and burned brighter than anyone had ever expected. There had been bets placed on how long they would last, and by default, Bones was the winner—everyone had placed within the first six months. Bones, well—in a bout of sentimentality and romanticism that he would deny till his last breath he bet that they would last until the end, and beyond that as well.

He took them out with his winnings, and it was all that was ever said on the subject—and his way of giving his blessing.

Turning in Spock's embrace Jim looked at his sleeping face, taking in the features of the one he loved most in the world. Jim gently traced his cheekbones, stroked his pointed tip of his ear and along his jawline. Spock hummed pleasantly but didn't stir; Jim felt an overwhelming surge of affection wash over him, something he knew Spock felt by the arms surrounding him drawing him close.

Leaning in and touching his lips softly to Spock's, feeling the warmth of his love fill him as they pressed sleepily back into his, Jim was overcome with happiness—a wave of pure bliss he never wants to do without.

* * *

 _Hopefully you found that short but sweet-just as I did!_


End file.
